


Climbing Trees

by Ark



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Naughty Princes, Outdoor Sex, Pre-Thor, Quick and Dirty, Secret Relationship, Smut Just Because, Threats of Discovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-17 09:15:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15458085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ark/pseuds/Ark
Summary: “Not like this, you idiot,” Loki says, kissing Thor's mouth to make the castigation fond. “We’re too exposed here. Anyone might discover us.”





	Climbing Trees

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a bit of a respite from another, much much longer story, have some quick fun filth. 100% inspired by this piece of [fine art](https://twitter.com/YinPacific/status/997507483685048320) by YinPacific on Twitter.  
>   
> They're "of age" here, so I figure a few hundred years old, give or take. Time on Asgard is weird, man.

They cannot escape the palace fast enough for Thor’s liking. 

All morning his lessons, and then his arms-training, seem to drag on interminably; the only reason he makes it through at all is because whenever he lags, Loki catches his eye. His brother’s expression, mixed mischief and nerves and desire that Thor now knows is for him alone, propels him onward. 

They meet as planned once their duties for the day are finished. Dinner will descend on them eventually, but in between they are granted a few precious hours where they will not be missed. 

The afternoon is warm and welcoming as Thor steps outside, and he hurries to the meeting-spot, only just managing not to run. When he reaches the tree, a favorite of their climbing days, Loki is already waiting for him.

The collision is one of lips and teeth and tongues, of frantic kisses and ravaging hands. 

“You’re late,” Loki chides, as Thor moves to bite along his brother’s neck.

“I could not shake Volstagg,” Thor tells Loki’s skin, more intoxicating than any mead. “I almost knocked him unconscious to be free of him.”

“You are forgiven,” Loki grins, and he fists his hands deep into Thor’s hair. 

Thor will have him right here, he thinks—push Loki back against this very tree, lift him up and fuck him, because he cannot wait a moment longer. It has been three days of torture since he had Loki last, since their schedules enabled such an escape without raising any eyebrows. They haven’t yet tried it like this, but Thor imagines that the mechanics should not be difficult.

He starts to put this plan into action, but Loki tugs warningly on his hair—hard enough to burn, and hard enough to make Thor’s cock even harder, which he had not thought possible.

“Not like this, you idiot,” Loki says, kissing his mouth to make the castigation fond. “We’re too exposed here. Anyone might discover us.”

Despite the truth in Loki’s words, the danger attendant with that idea makes Thor’s blood run hot. They have to be so careful—everything depends on this being a secret only they will ever know—and yet the thought of being found out is nearly enough to make Thor tear free Loki’s clothes and have him at the tree anyway. 

_Let them find us,_ Thor wishes he could say, but this is still so new and wondrous between them that he knows it better not to try Loki’s patience. 

So he lets Loki take his hand and lead him further into the wood. He uses the time to admire Loki’s lithe body as they walk quickly together, to notice how Loki’s hair contrasts against his pale cheek, to smell the scent coming off of him, rosewater from his bath and strong herbs from potion-making and sharp arousal—from Thor.

Loki would walk on, but when they reach a large overhang of brush sufficient to hide them from sight, Thor draws Loki toward him, and Loki goes.

“Brother, here,” says Thor. “Please. I must have you. Else I will perish.” 

“Must you,” says Loki, his eyes brightly amused, “will you,” but he is already undoing the laces of his tunic, and Thor is quick to echo his movement. 

Then Thor finds he cannot wait even long enough to have them fully unclothed—the bared sliver of Loki’s torso drives him completely mad, and he gathers his brother into his arms and brings them both down to the forest floor. 

They pull free Loki’s leggings together, tearing through the fabric that Loki can illusion back into place, but do not waste time removing Loki’s boots. Thor shoves down his own leathers just enough to free his cock, long and thick and huge now in his hand.

Loki gives a breathy little moan at the sight. “Gods, I love your cock,” he tells Thor. “It is unfair how much I love your cock. I can think about nothing but your cock.”

“And I, nothing save being in you,” Thor says, lining himself up so eagerly that his hands are unsteady. “Did you—”

“Yes, of course,” Loki says with a little toss of his head. “I slipped away while you were still in the training ring, and prepared myself.”

Thor needs no more permission. He stares, awed as always, as the head of his cock catches on Loki’s rim, and then he pushes into that delectable, tight heat. Loki gasps and moans again, ever vocal, and his hand comes up to clutch around Thor’s neck.

“Thor, I cannot take so much of you at once—”

“You can,” Thor murmurs against Loki’s cheek, kissing him there, “you are, brother. You feel perfect.” He gives Loki yet still more of his cock, and Loki arches up from the ground, tries beautifully to adjust for him. Thor loops an arm around Loki’s waist and holds him closer, presses in another inch, then another.

The first time they did this—a mere month ago—it took full hours before Loki could hold all of him. Thor’s cock was bigger than any either of them reported seeing elsewhere, and it was Loki’s first time trying. It was Thor’s first time as well, and he hesitated, afraid to hurt his brother yet so compelled by blinding lust and the need to have Loki be his that neither would he desist. 

The revelation that Loki shared Thor’s desires was irresistible: once voiced there was no going back for them, only forwards into this. They puzzled their way through it, and found the act to be so rewarding that they completed it twice more that night. After that, it was only a matter of finding the time and space to sneak away from lessons and watchful eyes and have each other. All other ramifications were dismissed as inconsequential.

There is never enough time. Thor would like to pass whole days like this, weeks, months, years—but he knows he is lucky enough to be able to touch Loki at all. He never dreamed that Loki might feel as Thor did; Thor tried so hard to keep his lust hidden; but then it was Loki who kissed him first.

Thor pulls back, then thrusts in firmly, and Loki curses and pleads in the same breath. Just a few more thorough thrusts like this to open Loki up and Thor will be able to fuck him in earnest. He kisses Loki, insistent about it, and this time nearly succeeds in sheathing his cock all of the way.

“Thor,” Loki hisses, his teeth biting his lower lip white, “please, please—”

“Please, more? Do you need more?” Thor asks in a low voice, and Loki gives a silent, desperate nod. Thor wraps his arms around Loki, uses his strength to leverage Loki’s body and pull Loki further along his cock, so that it is Loki sliding down his length rather than Thor pushing in. Loki’s breath escapes in a delicious sob. He always tries to stay so quiet, but is quite incapable of it, and the noises that he does let slip make Thor wild.

“I’ve thought of doing this every moment since we last parted,” Thor whispers in his ear. “Even in my dreams I fuck you.” Loki takes another inch, his eyes round at that; Thor glances down between their bodies, to see how Loki’s hole is stretched obscenely around his cock.

“Do it,” Loki encourages then, twitches his hips so that Thor is now almost entirely inside. “Fuck me, brother. You can make it hurt, I don’t mind. I want you to.”

“I—” Thor starts, and draws out halfway to do just that—then freezes. 

The crackle of leaves and twigs breaking underfoot is loud and unmistakable. He clutches Loki to him, whips his head around. All he can see is brush.

“It is only some animal, surely,” Loki says, but his voice is tiny. Unsure.

Thor stays very still, save a move to flatten them further down upon the ground for better cover. The motion pushes his cock back into Loki hard, all the way to the hilt, and Loki only just manages to stifle a shout by biting into Thor’s arm. Pain blooms around the bite—yet the sensation, unhelpfully now, goes straight to Thor’s cock.

The sounds come closer, closer. Footsteps, unmistakable. Beneath him, Loki’s features become transfixed by distress. 

“Pull out,” Loki whispers urgently. “We have to get away from here.”

Thor shakes his head, mouths against Loki’s neck: “They’re too close. If we move that much we will be seen and found like this at once.”

Thor holds still as he can with their bodies interlocked, Loki restless in his grip, Loki shifting around the strain of his buried cock, Loki biting his moans into Thor’s skin to hide them. 

The footsteps are nearly upon them. And then—

“I think it perfectly healthy,” says a voice in easy conversation.

“Of course you do, my dear,” says another. “Of course you do.”

Thor’s blood turns to ice, and Loki’s teeth clamp down so hard on Thor’s forearm that they draw blood. 

Their parents. The worst of all possibilities. The end of the world.

The panic at first is such that Thor almost gives them away with a drastic, rash action—what, he knows not, but the warrior’s instincts he’s been learning rip through him like lightning, and his whole body quivers, ready for battle. Only because Loki clamps up on him, equally panicked, does Thor remain unmoving.

It’s terrible then because it feels so unspeakably good when Loki does that—tightens up all around Thor, his arms and legs locked in and also going tighter around Thor’s cock. This time the moan is Thor’s to be rid of, and in desperation he bends to kiss Loki so that the sound goes into Loki’s mouth and not into the air. 

“It is only natural that brothers should pass so much time together,” Frigga is saying. The voices are nearly upon them. “They have always been close.”

In any other circumstances Thor would burst out laughing, laugh and laugh and not stop for anything, but this is deathly serious. Loki’s eyes are blown wide with something like terror—though his mouth twists under Thor’s as their mother speaks, and Thor knows that Loki is also amused in spite of his fear.

“Perhaps,” they hear Odin say. “But they are now of age, yet refuse to act like it. Thor, as crown prince, should be chasing the prettiest maidens, or letting them catch him—do you see how they try? He must prove his virility. Instead, he’s still off climbing trees with his brother.”

Thor is going to absolutely shake apart from a combination of ironic mirth and terrific fright. He is clinging onto control with his fingernails, which are making half-moons in the skin of Loki’s thigh and dug into the bunched fabric of Loki’s tunic. 

But Loki’s expression is changing quickly. At their father’s words he looks furious. Then he looks determined. Then he looks rebellious. 

Then he looks mischievous.

All of these are dangerous on Loki, and all the more dangerous for them both, for then Loki lifts his hips in such a way that Thor’s cock is drawn almost out of him—then Loki reseats himself fully.

Thor knows what madness feels like. He only just swallows back a groan as explosive pleasure runs up his spine and liquifies his brain, and then, when Loki does it again, he fixes his brother so fiercely to him that there is no more room left to move. 

“What are you _doing_ ,” Thor breathes.

“Climbing trees,” Loki mouths distinctly.

Thor wants to shake him, to try for some kind of sense, but since there is none to be had he thrusts pointedly into Loki—so that at least he is the one to do it and will not be caught unawares. 

Only he seems to have hit just exactly right—or wrong, in this case—for Loki claps a hand over his mouth to silence himself as Thor moves. This prompts Thor to thrust once more just the same, to torment Loki for what he started.

With Thor’s heart pounding from the acute fear of discovery and adrenaline coursing through his veins, every thrust feels intensified triple-fold, every place their bare skin touches electrified. The situation should have made Thor go soft at once; but instead he has never been harder, is rock-hard inside Loki’s slick tight heat.

“We could throw a ball for Thor’s birthing-day,” Frigga says, and now it sounds as though they are passing almost directly overhead. “We are overdue one. There he might be introduced to some of the young noble ladies, and not feel so pursued.”

“A most excellent idea,” Odin says. “But what are we going to do about Loki?”

Loki is pure arched tension in Thor’s arms, his lips parted, his cheeks flushed, a light as mad as Thor’s own madness in his green eyes. He puts his mouth to Thor’s ear.

“Fuck me,” Loki exhales, “or I’ll scream right now. I swear that I will.”

There is a goodly chance—Thor puts the odds at half—that this command is bluster, is a bluff, that Loki can mean to do no such thing. But those are odds that neither of them can afford to take. Thor does not need to be told twice. He was well on his way to doing so anyway.

He kisses Loki, slips his tongue into Loki’s mouth to eliminate the potential of a scream, then starts to move in earnest. He keeps Loki propped up, wrapped close in his arms, to prevent the sound of any rustling beneath them. 

Thor drives his cock deep, kisses Loki while he does it, then doing both relentlessly, kissing hard, driving harder. Loki takes thrust after rough thrust, struggling to accommodate all of Thor’s cock and this new momentum but just managing it. He bites at Thor’s lip in a way that Thor knows translates into _don’t stop don’t you dare stop_ without words. 

“Loki will be fine,” Frigga is saying, as she and Odin stroll on. Loki is trying not to scream now for other reasons, as Thor’s cock splits him without mercy, as Thor’s hand finds Loki’s cock and makes a firm fist around it. 

When their parents are further away, Thor drags his mouth from Loki’s, pushes Loki down into the grass, and fucks into him at a better, deeper anger. Loki’s legs hook around Thor’s waist, meeting him thrust for thrust, pushing up also into Thor’s grip; he is panting from exertion and the shockwaves of release that Thor is now holding back from him with his fist.

“Let me come,” Loki whispers fiercely, if whispers can be fierce. “Oh _Gods_ , Thor—”

“Or what?” Thor wants to know, and he pulls all the way out only to shove back with aching slowness. “You’ll _scream_ , brother?”

“I will perish,” Loki gasps, and Thor leans in to bite into the juncture of Loki’s shoulder to muffle his laughter. 

“Will you,” Thor murmurs, and then Loki is also smothering a laugh, a rather unhinged one, and Thor takes pity, strokes Loki’s cock with a hand that has learned just what Loki likes. Loki spends with a soundless cry, hot and wet all over Thor’s fingers, his legs falling open and his feet kicking into the grass with the force of his undoing.

After some time lying slack-jawed and satisfied while Thor yet fucks him, Loki grabs for Thor’s neck, hauls him closer and says, “Spill in me, brother. I want to feel you dripping down my thighs when we sit for dinner,” and the image this conveys is so overwhelming that Thor can but obey. 

Thor speeds his thrusts, fueled by the idea of Loki full-up with his seed and sitting across the table with the innocent smile that Thor knows will be on his face. No one will suspect a thing. No one will know of this but them.

He comes inside Loki, comes harder than he ever has, the perfect chaos of sensation multiplied by the madness still burning off of him. Thor seizes Loki’s mouth again as his own, just as he claims the rest of his brother; and afterward he does not withdraw, both for fear of too much movement alerting their not-too-far-away parents and to press his copious spend yet further.

They lie collapsed and tangled up and breathing fast together. 

“Would you really have done it?” Thor asks softly, petting through Loki’s short hair. “Would you have screamed?”

“I had not yet made up my mind,” Loki admits, his eyes bright. “You convinced me otherwise.” He smooths a hand down Thor’s sweat-painted chest, to where they are still joined, Thor hardly gone soft. “It aroused you. To think they might find us. I felt it.”

Thor does not deny the charge. “I would have all Asgard know that you are mine,” he says. “Even them. Most especially them.”

“You are quite mad,” Loki says with delight. “They think you just of an age to take up with the maidens who smile at you. What would they do if they discovered that you’ve had your brother nearly all the ways there are to have him?”

Thor is not ashamed of his greatest accomplishment. And it was Loki who kissed him first, Loki who asked to be brought to bed, Loki who begged for Thor’s cock. “Hopefully banish us,” Thor says, “to some distant mountain, where I can fuck you all day at last uninterrupted.”

Loki tilts forward, and kisses him for that; and then Thor says, brow furrowed, “Nearly all the ways to have you? What have we not yet tried?”

“What you first thought to do this afternoon,” Loki reminds him, a teasing whisper in Thor’s ear. “You have not tested your vaunted strength, and held me up in your arms while you took me.”

These words send sparks coursing through Thor’s veins, and his cock is already hard again within Loki’s now dripping wet heat. He circles his hips to prove his readiness, and Loki gives a little approving gasp of surprise.

“Name us a tree,” Thor tells his brother, “and we shall climb it together.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [tumblr](http://et-in-arkadia.tumblr.com/), and I love you already.


End file.
